Enucleator
by BookOfXcentric
Summary: Kurama had always loved Yomi's eyes; that's why he removed them. Implied YomiXKurama.


**A/N: **Hey, it's me again. I'm back with another short one-shot. I got the idea to this from watching a Psychology lecture on the net talking about mental patience's who tries to enucleate themselves or others.  
**Warning: **Shonen ai, implied Yaoi. **Don't like don't read! **There might be a few grammar and spelling mistakes in there (Don't hate me)  
**Enucleation** – is removal of the eyeball, but the adjacent structures of the eye socket and eyelids remain. **For more information see A/N at the end of the story.**

**OXXXO**

**Quote of the fic:  
**_Assassination is the extreme form of censorship._  
- George Bernard Shaw

OXXXO

Kurama used his cocktail-stick to absentmindedly pierce one of the small, alcohol marinated, cave-dragon hearts, which lay soaking in a bowl standing on the unadorned marble table next to him. He sucked on it for a while, allowing the alcohol to pleasantly sting his tongue. Leisurely he glanced at the respect imposing lord on the opposite side of the chamber. Yomi was signing papers at his, inspiringly enough, plainly designed desk. Boring bureaucracy. Kurama would sit leaned back on the exquisite chaise longue for hours and watch him, if the lord sought his assessment on a matter he would ask for it.

Kurama found himself wondering how it was possible for Yomi's sightless eyes to review the information on the documents. It seemed the old comrade had become very capable, even through his disadvantages.

"Is something bothering you, Kurama?" Yomi asked without even looking up from his task. The fox allowed the enquiry to hang unhurried in the air for awhile. "…No. What makes you suppose so?" He quested, inattentively twirling a tress of long hair around his finger.

Calmly, Yomi laid the pen down and put his chin on top of his clasped hands while he directed that unseeing gaze towards the chaise longue. "You're quiet."

Kurama released a short un-amused snort; low and intentionally taunting in its delivery. "Sounds like you're the one who's bothered."

Yomi smiled, mainly to hide how he inwardly cringed at the familiar Youko superiority in the fox's tone and action. "Perhaps…"

Kurama sighed and ceased twirling his hair, deciding to humour the lord. "Why?"

"You're quiet."

The ears on top of his head twitched back with partial frustration. Promptly he stood and crossed the chamber to languidly lean over the lords desk, the long curtain of scintillating hair sweeping forward. "…I get the feeling… we're wedged in a continuous loop." The fox teased with theatrical irritation.

Yomi was still, he didn't respond to the act in any way, allowing time to tick away between the two; leaving the air thick with unspoken issues. This silent timeless void lasted until Kurama, engrossed in his own incommunicable fascination, reached out and placed a single impudent hand over one of Yomi's closed eyes. He knew why there was nothing there, and wondered if Yomi did. Kurama let his claws scarcely graze the sensitive skin of the eyelid, before soothing it with his warm fingertips.

It was a quiet gesture of contemplation which Yomi allowed to continue. Was it an act of trust or a reminiscent from the past which made him tolerate the fox's impertinent procedure? Was it sensible to permit the action? Probably not. But it seemed that maybe even Youko had changed. He was still the ruthless brigand, he still deceived his comrades, he was still as bloodthirsty as ever but it appeared he no longer acted violently towards those he had formed allegiances with only because he could.

Youko Kurama would always remain Youko Kurama. No matter which superficial mask he wore to hide his identity from those he wished to keep in the dark; on the inside he was forever the legendary fox demon. And Yomi found peace in that fact.

He reached out and, in relaxed manner, tugged at a stray lock of Kurama's silver hair. He drew it towards himself without causing the fox any discomfort and smelled the silk like strands captured between his fingers. As the faint aroma of roses registered in his mind he smiled slightly against the tresses.

"Wanton." The lord whispered and Kurama tried to pull back, realizing it wouldn't happen he settled for an indignant huff. "I will not be ridiculed because of your promiscuous desires."

"Oh, as I do recall; you were the promiscuous one." Yomi opposed, his voice a provocation.

Kurama removed his lingering hand and Yomi, on his turn, released the important tress from his secure grip. "I am a Kitsune. What's your excuse?"

Yomi freed a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Lust."

It was Kurama's turn to keep from responding. He returned to the chaise longue and picked up the previously abandoned cocktail-stick, reassuming the former task of enjoying the marinated goodies. Even though he kept his eyes closed, trying to ignore his obstinate friend, he still perceived how Yomi's sightless gaze surveyed him. "Don't you have more important matters to attend to at the moment then trying to persuade me into going to bed with you?"

Yomi shrugged but without further ado did return to his obligation. Kurama privately sighed and leaned back. Maybe he would submit to the lord later, _maybe_.

He tried to relax, the calming sound of Yomi's scribbling pen was the only resonance in the room now. He leaned his head back and wondered why **_it_** bothered him. While the long-since memories mercilessly washed over him; Yomi's eyes.

Yomi had been young, inexperienced and hot-tempered as well as eager to please and prove himself capable of meeting Youko's high standards. His eyes had been clear and softly violet in colour. At the closing stages of a successful heist they would sparkle with mirth. But there had also been a deeply hidden benevolence behind them. Such an anatomical oddity was exceptional and rarely accepted among demonkind. A demon with gentle eyes; such a thing was purely preposterous.

Other demons had talked behind Yomi's back about his eyes; the eyes that were more fitting a spirit then a demon. But Kurama had found himself oddly attracted to those placid lilac orbs. Sure he found the way they seemed so childishly demanding when the goat made a mistake utterly infuriating, but at the same time those eyes had had a calming and soothing effect instilled within him; a result which none other then the late Kuronue had been able to achieve before.

Kurama had always known Yomi had the ambition as well as the physical and strategic resources necessary to become powerful. Yomi didn't act like it but he was a natural born leader. He desired obedience and conformity. Kurama would rebel against any form of forced compliance and he would never obey anything else then the ground he walked upon; nature was his only deity. Yomi could never match Kurama in intelligence, calculation or experience but the goat had always had a clear political talent and the longing to rule.

Kurama himself didn't give a damn whit about ruling; you can not be lawless if you are the law. Where is the fun in breaking the rules if you are the one to make and enforce them?

But one thing had worried the fox about Yomi climbing in power. Before he himself had become the legendary demon fox his eyes too had been clearer and more vibrant; even innocent in some absurd fashion. As he became Youko Kurama the legend his precious golden spheres had hardened. They had grown cold, cruel and as sharp as a blade's edge to match his diabolical brain and arctic sense of empathy.

Kurama loved what his own eyes had become; they installed trepidation and enthralment in those who dared to meet his intense malicious gaze. He couldn't care less for how brutal and cruel Yomi would become over time as he gained power, but the thought of those soothing orbs converting into something akin to his own effervescent vindictive glare had felt like an atrocity.

If the only way to stop Yomi's eyes from adapting to malevolence was to remove them, then so he would. And so he did, he had had the goat enucleated. Yomi's lost light had been an unfortunate but unavoidable casualty, one that he had been prepared to take at the time.

Kurama frowned to himself; and twisted the cocktail-stick in his hand, directing the light from the fireplace through the thin glass so that it reflected on the wall. He had actually done the lord a service, hadn't he? Without his eyes Yomi would continously be underestimated by his enemies and that was to the lord's advantage.

But, seeing Yomi again after all these years.., he missed those mild-mannered eyes.

**THE END**

**A/N:** **Enucleation** is removal of the eye, leaving the eye muscles and remaining orbital contents intact. This type of ocular surgery is specific for a number of different ocular tumours, in eyes that have suffered severe trauma, and in eyes that are painful due to disease. (I don't actually know if this is what Kurama did to Yomi put it felt like inspiration.)  
**Auto-enucleation** (**oedipism**) and other forms of serious self inflicted eye injury are an exceptionally rare form of severe self-harm which usually originates from serious mental disorders such as schizophrenia. The name comes from Oedipus, who gouged his eyes out in atonement for having sex with his mother and killing his father. Other patients appear to have been inspired by the Gospel of Matthew, which states: _"...if the right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from thee"  
_**Evisceration** – refers to removal of the interior eye contents, but the sclera is left behind with the extra ocular muscles still attached.  
**Exenteration** - removal of the contents of the eye socket including the eyeball, fat, muscles and other neighbouring structures of the eye. The eyelids may also be removed in certain cases of cancer and unrelenting infections. Exenteration is sometimes done together with Maxillectomy.  
**Maxillectomy** – refers to a conduct of removing the maxilla or the upper jaw bone/cheekbone. (No, I'm not a doctor. I found the Google reseach button)

**Last words concerning the story:** I don't know, it's okay I guess, but it could be better. Maybe it's true as they say: you're your own worst critic.  
I feel as if my vocabulary isn't as good as I would want it to be. I can taste the words I want on my tongue but I can't get them out. I'm unable to patch the sentences together in a way I'd like to create a better description of an emotion or an event. I feel as if I can see my goal but I can't reach it. It's frustrating. Like the never-ending corridors in horror movies. I have nightmares about that; not being able to reach things.

English isn't my main language but (sometimes I feel like I express myself better in it) when I have an inspiration to write something I'd like to achieve my perfect end product and it's not…, I feel as if I am close but I'm not quite getting there. I should probably change my penname to Pity Trip.

Sometimes I just write fics on impulse, I don't try as hard in those, they don't really matter to me. But this one does that matters, for once I actually had an inspiration. _-sigh-_


End file.
